


Snow and the Dragon Queen

by Magali_Dragon



Series: Live in the New World [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, In which Dany plays along with Tormund in teasing Jon Snow, Jon Snow is such a blushing bride, Protective Tormund Giantsbane, Targlings (ASoIaF), Tormund is Jon's Ride or Die, Tormund is the best uncle ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Set between end of "In Her World" and "Live in the New World or Die in the Old."  In which Tormund Giantsbane spends time with the daughter of his favorite crow, learns some news from his favorite queen, and gives said crow a hard time just because it's fun.





	Snow and the Dragon Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Tormund POV! This is just him with one Targling, but there will be more. Also just Tormund taking the piss out of Jon because he can and Jon lets him because he's a blushing bride.

Well it wasn’t the North but it would have to do.

The last time he’d dropped in for a wee visit it had been fucking snowing of all things. He supposed since the island was in the Shivering Sea, direct north of Braavos and almost straight east of White Harbor, of course it would get some snow now and again, but by gods…snow not in the North! 

He supposed it made since as there was inf act a Snow not in the North who lived on the island. He laughed at the joke he’d made himself. He closed his eyes, smiling and savoring the peace and quiet for a moment before he returned back up to the Big House. He called it the Big House not to be confused with the Little House which was where he tended to spend his time whenever the silent ball-less bastards came to Hardhome. It was all he needed to grab a pack, tell Annetje, his second-in-command as well as other things that he’d be back, and set off to the ship that would take him here.

The other Free Folk teased him, said he was a kneeler for his constant devotion, but they got their teeth knocked in for not keeping their fucking opinions to himself. Tormund Giantsbane was not a fucking kneeler. He was loyal. And he was loyal to Jon Fucking Snow and to the pretty little Dragon Queen who had somehow gotten that sullen brooding fucker to smile once and awhile. 

He briefly wondered how the Dragon Queen had done it, but then figured Jon Snow would not like him wondering about what lay beneath the pretty Dragon Queen’s pretty black coats. He chuckled to himself, still laying on the beach, his hands on his chest. He had never seen a man so head over heels stupid in love for a woman than Jon Snow for his Dragon Queen. It made him smile. Made him want to murder the fucker when he found out what he’d done, but then realized he didn’t need to do anything to Snow when he heard the first nightmare from the man, the horrified screams cutting through the cold night like a knife to the gut. 

He continued to relax on the beach, a cold breeze coming in off the sea and only wishing he’d had a horn of ale on hand. It could very well be the afterlife the gods took you to after you…

“FUCKING SEVEN HELLS!”

His vision went dark and he struggled against the soft blanket that had been thrown over his face, startling him out of his dreaming and trying to get it off, while also climbing from the sand, and wondering what the fuck was going on—were they under attack?

And then he heard it.

Giggles.

He ripped the blanket off and laughing, eyes wild as he pinned the intruder of his daydreaming, wrapping the blanket around her and pinning her arms to her sides, lifting the wee thing clear from the ground and hauling her over his shoulder, taking off down the beach. She screamed, but then laughed, unable to stop as she kicked at his shoulder. “Put me down!” she yelled. “I demand it! I am a princess!”

“Princess of what?” he demanded, but set her down anyway. He plucked the blanket off her head, rolling it up and grinning down at the little wolf cub, growling at him, but it was not as menacing as a full-grown wolf. He could see one out of the corner of his eye, smiling and walking towards him. 

“That’s enough Lya.”

Ignoring her father, she pinned her hands to her tiny hips, her nose wrinkling and her braids askew from the blanket, and scowling up at him with those tiny dark brows that kind of looked like a version of her mother when she got angry. He wouldn’t know if Snow ever got cute when he got mad, but he could be an angry motherfucker when he wanted. “I am a princess!” she shouted.

He ruffled her braids. “And I’m a prince.” He had been told a few times not to encourage her belief that she was in fact a princess. They wanted her to be normal. Sometimes he slipped though and called her Princess Dragonwolf. She was and he Tormund Giantsbane didn’t like to lie. Especially when on the receiving end of those dark gray eyes and scowl. 

No one had to know he was absolute mud when it came to the little girl.

Lyanndei Targaryen could ask him to kill her father, mother, and then himself and he probably would attempt to do it, just because he asked. No one needed to know that though. He tried to be gruff with her. “Never sneak on a Free Folk. Might get a knife in your neck.”

“Like mine?” 

He grabbed the tiny little ‘knife’ he had made her, just a sharp stone tied to a piece of wood. “Don’t need that right there. Where’s your fucking father?” 

“He’s fooking there.”

Turning, he saw Snow approaching, his dark eyes narrowed. “Stop cursing around her,” he chastised, as Lya ran off to the edge of the sea, letting the water touch the toes of her boots before she screamed and ran back, playing a game with the waves. Snow continued to pretend like he was menacing when it came to his daughter, which Tormund just found funny, since if he was mud around Lya then Snow was whatever was beyond that. He crumbled around her. 

He rolled his eyes; they always kept telling him not to curse around Lya, but it was hard. Free folk never bothered to stop themselves around the children, they just learned like anyone else. “She doesn’t know what it means.”

“Yeah well the other day she told Dany to leave her the…” Snow rolled his eyes. “Fook alone.”

“You know your wife makes fun of us for saying it like that.” He frowned, bushy eyebrows pushing together as he tried to say it the way he thought she said it, but each time it just sounded like the word ‘fuck’ to him. 

Snow tried himself. “Fuuu…ooo…” He sighed. “I don’t know what she means, we don’t say it any different than her.”

“Fook!” Lya screamed from the beach, running after a bird.

All he could do was laugh and clap his hand on Snow’s back as the father groaned. “Got your work cut out with you.” He tossed the knife in his hand, realizing his mistake when he heard the oath uttered from the man beside him. “Whoops.”

“Is that a knife?” Snow grabbed it from him, glaring. “Seven hells Tormund! She’s four!”

“Aw it’s a baby knife, all free-folk kids get em’. Teach her how to cut up stuff, maybe skin a small animal with a sharper one.”

Snow shoved the baby knife into the pocket of his jerkin. “Not this free folk.”

Fine, he’d just make her another one. He rolled his eyes but said nothing, catching Lya’s attention as the little girl stood on a large boulder, jumping up and down as she saw something in the water catching her attention. He figured she would want to stick around the beach for a bit. He turned to her father, about to suggest he take a break and head back to the Big House when a curious mark on Snow’s neck caught his attention. He leered, poking the scratch sticking out. “What’s that?”

A hand slapped his away. “Don’t touch me. It’s nothing.”

“Looks like a scratch.” Snow said nothing, but the boy could not stop his prudishness and Tormund grinned at the pink that began to creep up his neck, only making the scratch stand out a bit more. He poked his ribs. “If I keep looking am I gonna’ see dragon teeth marks?”

“Shut up.”

All he could do was laugh. He enjoyed teasing Snow about the goings-on in the bedroom, only because unlike any other man he’d met, Snow just kept his mouth closed on the subject, turned as red as a maid when questioned, and usually reached a point where ‘shut up’, ‘leave me alone’, or ‘mind your fucking business’ started being all the responses. If he really kept going he could get a nice punch to the nose or gut, which usually was his sign to quit, but Tormund enjoyed it. If Snow just told him when he asked, it wouldn’t be any fun.

Tormund had only had sisters growing up and then daughters and Snow was a little bit of both brother and son to him, so he just liked to poke the wolf. See if he would ever get his hand bit off. 

He poked him a bit again, leaning in and leering, an eyebrow arching. “So…what’s the Missus Dragon doing right now?”

“She’s sleeping.”

A punch to his shoulder almost had Snow stumbling into the sand. “Well go wake her up with that magic pecker of yours.” He barked a laugh when Snow’s eyes narrowed and he saw his fist clench at his side. “Unless she has to be the first one to make a move because you’re such a pussy.”

“I made the first move on her you know.”

He snorted. “Ha!”

“I did,” Snow mumbled, looking a bit dejected that he wasn’t believed. Hmm, maybe he did, Tormund thought, frowning a bit. That’d be different. Good for him if so, Dragon Queen was a catch. He punched him. “Shut up about it.”

Although he noticed the look that had crossed Snow’s face. Dark and stormy. Kind of wolfish. He snickered. “Whatcha’ thinking bout’ Jon Snow?”

More pink cheeks. “Nothing!” 

“Well if she did that scratch to you, figures. I always figured she’d be the kind of woman who could rip you up fucking you sense…” He barely had the thought finished when his breath caught in his throat, Snow’s fist in his stomach. He wheezed, laughing as he fell back into the sand, a good solid punch to the face cracking his nose. He whooped in laughter, climbing back up to his feet as Snow shook out his hand, cursing his bleeding knuckles. “Bout’ fucking time!”

“And this is fun for you?”

“Well we don’t all have Dragon Queens you know.” It made him smile though, to see the smile that tugged on Snow’s lips. He had met him when he was nothing but a green lad, a good fighter but clearly naïve about how the world worked. Highborn of course, judging from his accent, but with something that ran through his blood that called to the free folk. A need to be free. To run wild and not be contained by walls or towers or gates. The boy who had captured Ygritte and then turned on them all was no more it seemed. Yes he turned pink still at the very mention of sex, but he was almost preening in it a bit compared to turning as red as the sun. He still couldn’t believe Snow had it in him to do what he had done what felt like lifetimes ago. Breaking poor Ygritte’s heart, betraying their trust…fuck he still couldn’t believe it. 

And then that same man put an arrow in Mance Rayder’s heart instead of letting him suffer, opened the gates for them to cross, and took seven stabs to the heart and died for them. Tormund had to give him credit. For a dead man, Jon Snow seemed to be quite happy these days. 

He punched his shoulder lightly. “You know for all the teasing I give you, you never ask me about what I got going on back up in Hardhome.” Or the Dothraki camps, he thought, thinking back with fond memories of the horsemaiden who had come up North. Only to be pissed as hell and almost killed him before making her way back to the Dothraki Sea. What was her name again….?

“That’s because I don’t want to know.”

“You clearly doing something right to keep her coming back to you.” He remembered something he had heard Ygritte say to one of the others on their treks. “So what’s this thing I hear about a Lord’s Kiss? Should I call it a King’s Kiss now?”

“Oh my gods I’m going to kill you, shut up!”

At least the subtle mention of Ygritte didn’t have him closing down and putting up all his walls, Tormund thought with a brief smile. “Like I said, gotta’ be something that keeps her going back to you.” He waved back to the house as Snow continued to turn pink and his eyes kind of went glassy at a thought of something. He grinned. “Go back to the house and deal with those blue balls of yours Snow.”

“Fuck off Tormund.”

“I’ll keep the little lass away for a time, what should we say, about five minutes?” he continued to tease. He completely deserved the rock that got flung at him, ricocheting off his shoulder but he did notice that Snow sped up a bit as he made his way back up to the house. Good boy, he thought, turning his attention to Lya, who was approaching him, holding something in her hands. “Whatcha’ got there my little dragonwolf?”

“Shells!” She held up a spiral one and handed it to him. “Hold.” Then she began to wander down the beach, kneeling and picking up another, giving it to him. 

“What’re we gonna’ do with these?” He followed dutifully behind her, taking great care of the shells as she spent time picking out the best ones. Or what she assumed were the best ones, he thought, tossing a broken one down and picking up a better one when she wasn’t looking. 

Lya beamed. “Gonna’ make necklace.”

The cute little way she said words always twisted him up inside. Reminded him of his girls, long grown and somewhere off in the wilds of the North. He grinned down at her. “What kind? Like the kind your momma’ has?”

“Yes.” She smiled wide again. “Crown! I want a crown!”

“I will make you a crown, fit for a princess.”

“Good.” She looked around, just noticing that her father was not with them. “Where’d Papa go?”

“He’s going to get you a little brother or sister,” he said, truthfully. Or at least, he figured as much. It was about time they add to their brood, he was getting older and he wanted at least another little Dragonwolf to look forward to seeing when he visited. Lya could also use a sibling, he decided, to keep her company when he wasn’t around. 

Her eyes lit up. “Really!?”

“Really.” He better be.

“I want a sister.” She stuck out her lower lip, pouting. “I have brothers. They’re dragons.”

He glanced up at the sky, watching the dragons circle lazily. “Yeah, um…brothers sure.” Wouldn’t’ want to be on the receiving end of one of those brothers’ bad moods when it came to their little sister, he figured. Whoever was going to marry her one-day had their work cut out for them. 

They kept looking for shells. At one point she found a dead crab and chased him with it. He really didn’t like those things, looked like giant bugs, and told her so, which had her screaming and hurling the carcass into the sea. 

“Why d’you call papa a crow?”

He looked up from sifting through the shells she had given him to hold. “Crow?”

“Yeah, crow.” She frowned. “What’s a crow?”

“Well a crow is a bird.”

“Papa not a bird.”

“Used to be, sort of.” So he explained to her about the Night’s Watch and how their black cloaks made them look like crows. Like giant birds stalking around. He tweaked her nose. “But he’s not a crow anymore. He’s still my Crow.” My King Crow.

“Am I a crow?”

“You are Little Crow, but you are also my Little Dragonwolf.”

They found some more shells for her crown. Or necklace. Whatever he’d be able to make her before she forgot what she had asked for. She tugged on his hand. “I wanna’ go back.”

He glanced at the sun, judging it had been a couple hours. Should be enough time for her mama and papa to get themselves straightened back up. “Your papa probably should be done now.”

“Done with what?”

“Making you a sister.”

“Eeeek! He makes them?” She seemed delighted, clapping her hands as though they were going to go back up to the house where her sister would be waiting. He probably should fix this. “Can I name her?”

“Um….well first Momma gotta’ make her too. Takes a bit. Why don’t we just forget this?” He’d walked into it hadn’t he, he thought. He grinned. Or… He took her hand as they walked back up the path. “Why don’t you ask them later.”

“Ask what?”

“Where babies come from. Ask them later.” That should be fun. He hoped he was around for the way Snow’s face looked when he got that question. 

She held her arms up about halfway up. He obliged, lifting her up and putting her on his neck, holding her hands as they marched up to the house, singing loudly about the ‘Bear and the Maiden Fair.’ He’d have to come up a song about a Princess Dragonwolf for her. 

As they rounded the corner to arrive back at the Big House, he saw across the way her momma and papa coming out of the thicket of trees that led to the godswood. He was pleased to see that their hair was in all kinds of disarray and Dragon Queen had a stick in her braid. Snow had some leaves stuck to his arm too. He whistled, catching their attention. “What were you doing?” he teased.

“Nothing,” Snow said immediately while Dragon Queen just laughed. He loved that lady, she had no shame or embarrassment about anything. He looked up at Lya, smiling wide. “You have fun?”

“Yes,” Lya chirped. She grinned, eyes bright. “Did you make me a sister?”

They both began to cough, to cover their surprise at her question. Tormund only smiled at them both. “Hey, she’s just asking.”

“We were….” Snow trailed off, glancing at Dragon Queen who just smiled, serene and enjoying herself. “Um…praying.”

“That’s what the kids call it these days?” 

Dragon Queen rolled her eyes and took Lya from around his neck. “We were training. Come on Lya, let’s get you changed, you are filthy.” She carted Lya off to the house and Tormund got a look at the back of her coat. 

He poked Snow. “You were training, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, I guess she lost a few times.”

“No, why?”

He merely smiled. “She’s got an awful lot of dirt on her back for training Jon Snow.”

“Fuck you.”

\--

Gods bless it.

Tormund cursed again as he stuck his thumb with the bone needle, reaching to suck at the tiny angry wound as he strung the needle through the little holes he had made through the shells, stringing them onto a piece of twine. He looked up when a shadow crossed over his sight, the fire in front of him flickering as another person joined him. He smiled. “Dragon Queen.”

“Tormund Giantsbane.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“He’s asleep.”

“Wore him out, huh?” he asked, feigning sympathy. Good for Snow. 

She nudged her shoulder against his, a dark eyebrow arching to her silver hairline. “Well you know it isn’t really hard. He bends easy.” She wiggled her eyebrows and he roared laughing. See? This was what he was missing from Snow. She merely smiled. She was so pretty he thought, blue eyes twinkling to her violet ones. 

He nudged her shoulder this time. “You know I’m always available when Snow is not up to par.”

“Would love to take you up on that enticing offer Tormund, but unfortunately for you Snow is always up to par for me,” she shot back, grinning when he laughed again. She rested her head on his shoulder briefly. “Thank you for taking care of Lya today. We needed the alone time.”

He kissed the top of her silver head and returned his attention to threading the needle through the shells. “Anytime.”

“Its been a hard time lately.”

Immediately the joking and teasing went away, replaced with concern. He peered down at her, watching the flames flicker over her pale face as she stared into them. He lightly touched his finger to her elbow. “You okay? If it’s Snow, I swear to gods I’ll kick the shit back into him. Fix whatever he’s fucked up.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “No I’m afraid it’s me.” She leaned forward over her knees and dipped her fingers into the fire, fiddling with the flames. It was downright haunting. “This time of year has a lot of bad reminders for us.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t even sure what time of the year it was to be honest. He frowned. “Like what?”

“Anniversary of the burning of King’s Landing…all that went with that.” He noticed she flinched and lightly touched her side. He remembered what Snow had said, mumbling in his dreams and when he had drunk too much and had to be carried back to his tent, sobbing about how he’d killed her. He heard from some of the Dothraki as well, when they were there at the camps, knowing that he’d lost a baby when he’d lost her too. Fucking Snow and his fucking honor.

No wonder he was all in his head lately.

Boy needed to get out of it and never go back, but that seemed impossible even with what he had right here in front of him. Tormund was going to kill him. He reached over and patted her arm lightly. “I always liked you Dragon Queen. Moment I saw you I knew.”

“Knew what?”

Wasn’t it obvious? These idiots. He rolled his eyes. “You were good. You’re a good one. It was obvious.” 

She snorted. “Not for the rest of the North.”

“Those fucking kneelers I swear. Look, whatever you did was wrong, but we free folk have done bad stuff too and anyone who thinks in that world there with their game of thrones and crowns and kneeling and all that other bullshit that goes with it, think they are better than anyone else, they’ve got another thing coming.” He reached and hugged her close. She smelled nice. Like lemons. “We burned the North too. Killed people. Not proud of it, but we did it. It was war.”

A dark look crossed her pretty face again. “The only people who suffer in war are innocents.”

He thought about that for a moment and nodded in agreement. “Aye.” They stopped talking about the matter and she returned to the flames, her hands going back and forth, almost tossing them back in her hand like a ball. He cocked his head and frowned. “How do you do that?”

“I don’t know. I just do. I’m a dragon.”

“You know Dragon Queen I might be kissed by fire, but you are made of it.” She smiled, warm and soft. He smiled back. He frowned a bit, brows flickering. “You know…I knew Snow when he was a green boy. Had a pretty face and prettier hair. Not the scars he has now.” Both on the outside and on the inside. He took a deep breath. “He killed one of his own to prove himself to us. Broke his vows and broke a woman’s heart.”

There was a dark look in her eyes again. “He tends to do that,” she murmured.

Fucking idiot, Tormund thought. Boy had no idea how good he had it. Both times. Lucky the world came around and he finally figured it for himself. Too bad she had to die for it and he had to go to the brink of death to see it himself. “He ever tell you about her?” he murmured, glancing at the fire.

She hesitated and then shook her head. “No…I knew there was someone.”

“First woman he ever loved I think. More ways than one.” He frowned again. “She was strong but he hurt her. He knew it too. Went back to his vows and his crows and she died for it.” He looked back over at her. “Died in his arms.”

Her fingers removed from the fire, she wrapped them around herself, hugging tight. “Did he really love her?” she whispered.

He thought for a moment and shrugged. “In his way I guess, but not like you.”

“How do you figure?” She smirked. “He killed me.”

Well there was that. “Aye, but he went looking for you too.” He wished he could show her. Take some of the magic that brought her back. Brought Snow back. All that other crazy shit that he had seen in his life. Too bad she couldn’t see. “You didn’t see him, I did. I thought each time I went to look for him I’d find him hanging from a tree or something. Boy would drink himself into oblivion, have nightmares that could set your teeth on edge hearing him scream, and just when you thought he was moving on and getting through whatever it was he was getting through, he’d fall right back into it again.” He could have sworn that there was a brief moment where Snow had moved on. He hadn’t see him in a bit, the nightmares didn’t seem to be around, and one of the other free folk women, a pretty brunette with green eyes, had caught his attention a few times. 

And then just when he thought things were good, Ghost came looking for him and led him to the tent, where he found him seizing in his nightmares, almost dying from his guilt. 

Dragon Queen reached over and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, marveling at how strong she was for such a tiny lady. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For watching him.” She glanced sideways. “He thinks he is strong and he thinks he can handle whatever it is but…he has done it for so long and for his entire life. Sometimes he just needs someone to make sure he takes care of himself and remind him that he’s human. Thank you.”

He smiled her way. “Just did it until you came back.”

It was her turn to beam at him. After a moment she wiggled her eyebrows. “You surprised me earlier with Lya, I was going to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

His mouth fell slightly when she pulled her dress tight around her waist and he tried to figure what it was he was supposed to be looking for when he noticed her swollen belly. His eyes widened and began to dance and he flung his arms out. “Baby!” he hollered, all but tackling her as he gave her a bear hug. She laughed, buried in his furs, but squeezed him back. 

“Tormund let go of my wife.”

A whoop left him and he let go, jumping up and tackling the other man, punching him lightly. “Jon Fucking Snow.”

“What?”

“Putting babies in queens again, you lucky bastard.” 

Snow smiled sheepishly. “Oh, yeah.”

He jerked his thumb towards Snow and looked back over at Dragon Queen who merely smiled. “He has magic this one.”

A grin tugged on her lips, one that had him roaring and her husband blushing. “Oh I know he does.”

“I still have no idea what you see in this brooding wolf.”

“It might be what you don’t see,” she teased. 

Jon gaped at her. “Dany!”

“What?” she asked, innocent. 

Tormund ruffled Snow’s pretty curls and pushed him towards the Dragon Queen. “Go get your wife. I got things to finish.” He plopped back down onto the ground by the fire and picked up the twine, continuing to work on the necklace for Lya while her parents ran off back to the house, giggling like maids running off for their first kiss. He shook his head after them, rolling his eyes. Stupid morons.

Now, back to making this shell necklace…

The needle went into this thumb again. “Fuck!” He growled, determined more than ever to get this necklace. It clearly was going to require blood, sweat, and tears.

Anything for the little Dragon Wolf.

\--

“Morning Dragon Queen.”

The tiny little silver-haired thing rose on her toes and planted a kiss to his cheek. He smiled and tugged on her braid before taking a seat at the table, where she had already set out food. “Careful there, I may steal you from King Crow.”

“Oh not likely.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, scowling. “So what do you see in him, really?” It was part teasing and part genuine curiosity. They could not have been more different on the surface. Fire and ice and all that. 

She only grinned and kissed his nose. “He has a big heart.”

“Hmm, that’s good enough I guess.” He picked up the mug of drink she had poured him, studying it for a moment and then looking up. “This got ale?”

“No Tormund, it is stewed leaves and spices from ESsos, I promise you will like it.”

Hmm, he wasn’t sure, so when she wasn’t looking he took out his horn and poured a bit of ale in, smiling and lifting it up. As he did, the sound of arguing above began to trickle down and then little feet pounded on the stairs, followed shortly by heavier ones. “Tormund!” Lya jumped off the last stair, still in her nightdress, Snow chasing after her with her actual clothes. She jumped into the chair next to him and then crawled into his lap, her bright gray eyes wide. “I want to shoot today.”

“Shoot what Little Wolf?”

“Bows and arrows please.”

That sounded fine with him. He reached into his vest and removed the shell necklace, planting a ticklish kiss on her cheek, which she giggled and pushed him away, holding up the necklace and squealing again, her feet stomping on his knee. “Of course, put your necklace on. Let me help.” 

“Lya, eat your food,” Snow ordered. It seemed this had been a battle a bit in the making, when he noticed that a bowl of porridge had already been made for her. He held out her clothes. “And put on your real clothes, you can’t go shooting bows and arrows in your nightdress.”

“Aw, she’s fine Crow, sides’ free folk children run around in their britches and still shoot arrows.”

He rolled his eyes, but said nothing, tossing the clothes onto one of the chairs by the fire and quickly dropping a kiss to the Dragon Lady’s head. Tormund watched beneath his brows, as Lya fiddled with her shell necklace, that when he thought no one was watching, Crow took a little longer to let her go, his fingers lingering on the swell of Dragon Queen’s stomach. He smiled to himself and cleared his throat, the sound immediately sending Crow back a few steps. 

That boy was mad; still didn’t seem to realize that it was perfectly fine to show your love and affection around. He shook his head slightly. Guess it was all that cold upbringing or something. He looked at Lya and smiled. “Will you eat your porridge for me?”

“All right,” Lya immediately said, settling on his knee and dragging her bowl towards her. 

“How did you do that?” Crow demanded. “I’ve been trying to get her to eat all morning.”

“Guess she likes me better,” he teased. Snow only rolled his eyes, walking by Dragon Queen and then grabbed his cloak, leaving them. He frowned at her. “He mad?”

“It’s been a bit of a morning,” she laughed. She ruffled Lya’s hair. “Darling, please put on your real clothes. You don’t want to dirty your nightdress while you are shooting bows and arrows.”

“You’re not mad about that?”

She snorted. “Dothraki children get a bow in their hand before they can walk. It is something I want her to learn, even though I hope she never has to use the skills. It will be good for her.”

After Lya finally finished eating, which she onlyd id after being chided for trying to feed Ghost some of her food, the wolf not partaking in porridge under the watchful eye of her mother, Tormund took her outside and to the little target he had set up against a tree. He picked up the bow he had made her on that trip, a tiny little thing, he’d had trouble with the strings. Women made the best bows, he insisted, because their hands were faster and thinner. They also made the best archers, he had also discovered, although the Dothraki weren’t bad themselves.

He handed her an arrow, the tip only blunt enough to hit the burlap he had stretched over the tree trunk for the target. “Okay Baby Crow.”

“Dragon Wolf,” she ordered. 

“Well right now you’re Baby Crow, wearing those clothes.” To his laughter, she was wearing a miniature version of her father’s preferred color combination. Black and black. Except her little cloak had a red three-headed dragon embroidered on it along with the silver wolf. He knelt and straightened out her elbow and arm. She had a good stance, for a child. “Okay, nock the arrow…”

The little gauntlet she wore was too big for her, but it served its purpose for now. She screwed up her concentration, stray hair falling in her eyes from her braids and irritatingly blew it from her face. He smiled and whispered. “Let go.”

She let go and the arrow missed its target by only a bit. They weren’t too far away and she stomped her foot. “Fook!”

“Lyanndei!”

The giggle only made him laugh at the expression on Snow’s face. He waved his hand at her father, who only growled before he returned to fixing the harness for one of the horses that they had brought with them on that particular journey. “Okay Dragon Wolf, no swearing.”

“You do it.”

“I can do it, but not you.”

“Not fair.”

“Lot’s of things not fair, try again.” He passed her another arrow and watched as this one hit the bottom of the target. He smiled. “Not bad.” 

It was on the fifth try she got the arrow to the middle of the sack and his eyes widened in surprise. And a little bit in fear. She squealed, jumping up and down, her skirt flying about her knees. “I won!”

“Ah…you did,” he chuckled. He turned to look, slightly nervous, at Snow, who had been watching, leaning against one of the trees, and found her father was also slightly startled at the ability with which the four year-old had hit the target. He cleared his throat and smiled down at her. “Good job.”

She stepped back a few paces and tried again. It seemed she got better the more she shot. Until she started getting frustrated when she began to miss and sniffed at hot tears that began to fall on her face. He knelt and used the sleeve of his fur to wipe at her eyes. “I can’t do it!” she complained.

“Just take a few breaths, you’re still new,” he assured her. He glanced at Snow. “When’d you get a good shot?”

Snow smiled briefly. “I was 12 when I finally hit the target in the middle. I didn’t start training on it though until I was 10.” He nodded towards Longclaw, the great sword leaning against the tree trunk nearby with Dark Sister. “Swords on the other hand…that was my preference.”

Tormund was about to say something about how of course Snow was a terrible archer, because Free Folk were clearly the best, and maybe even the Dothraki, when an arrow whizzed by with a light whisper, shooting straight into the center of the target against the tree. His eyes widened and Snow let out a surprised sound. They all, even Lya, whipped their heads to see where the arrow came from. 

On the balcony of the house, Dany lowered her bow and swept down gracefully in a perfect curtsy, holding it aloft. She only grinned and disappeared back into the house, Lya squealing and running inside. Guess we’re done. He swept up her little bow and practice arrows, shaking his head as they came out of the house, Lya jumping around her mother’s skirts. Snow walked over to him, collecting the arrow from the tree trunk. “You know if you hadn’t already taken her, I would. She can do anything.”

“To be fair I didn’t know she’d been practicing with the bow lately.” He shoved the arrows into the sack. “And besides, she’d burn you alive.” He tweaked at Tormund’s hair, laughing. It was such a strange sound but Tormund was glad to hear it. “Kissed by fire and all that doesn’t matter to her.”

“Yeah well it’d be worth it.”

\--

“Tormund.”

In the tree above the path, they lay in wait for their prey. He looked over at Lya, who was swinging a bit on a low branch, getting antsy. He lifted his finger to his lips. “Shh, we don’t want him to know we’re here.”

She giggled. “I love you,” she cooed.

If any of the other Free Folk knew or could hear his heart swell and basically explode, Tormund would say they were lying and then have their heads. He smiled wide at the little girl, who reminded him of his daughters. He was so glad Snow had finally gotten this. “Aw, little Dragon Wolf. I love you too.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Not right now I’m not. He stayed until it was time to leave, until the North called for him. He once told Snow that he had the True North in him, that he wasn’t suited for the South. He should have corrected that. Snow always had the True North in him and he remembered that. He was only able to live in the South because of his Dragon Queen. 

One day he hoped the King Crow could come back up and see the rest of the Free Folk. Live in peace for a time. He smiled over at Lya. “I’m not leaving yet.”

“Can I come with you?”

Oh, little Dragon Wolf. If only it were that easy. “Not right now,” he said, his voice soft. One day he hoped he could show her the Frostfangs and the Milkwater and Queenscrown. If Snow had the True North in him, Lya certainly had it. It came off of her in waves, the way she shot her arrow, climbed trees, and even when she danced in the snow like she was born there.

He hoped they could come back one day to the shores where they had met. It was too bad the current state of things in the South; with those fucking kneelers and all their thrones and kings and queens had chased away this family who only wanted to live in peace. He found himself speaking again at Lya’s pouty look. “One day you can come to Hardhome and see the Free Folk and the snow and the ice in the North.”

“I’m a wolf,” she said. She looked down, crouching almost like a cat. Or a dragon, he realized, the look of determination on her face. 

He chuckled. “And a dragon.”

Their prey came walking up, not even paying attention. Getting soft. They would have to show him about that. 

He held his fingers up, counting down for Lya, who nodded after he gave her the signal and she screamed as he bellowed out a war cry, both of them leaping from the trees to tackle Snow into well, the snow.

THE END


End file.
